


lucky

by a5xa7 (CastelloFlare)



Series: the runner's romance [6]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastelloFlare/pseuds/a5xa7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through accompanying his friend in his romantic conquest, Newt somehow found his. Or <i>he</i> found Newt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lucky

“I’m good at building thin’s,” Gally half-screamed at the open window at the second floor of the residence, his voice slurrred between hiccups. Newt knew just where this cheesy pick-up line was going. He groaned.

“I could build us a nice house,” Gally continued, his arms moving wildly and his drunk voice rising. “But I need _you_ to help make it a home. That, and to make a football team of kids–”

“Ahaha, I don’t think the neighbors wanna hear that,” Newt laughed awkwardly as he jammed his gloved hand onto his friend’s lips. Dealing with a sober Gally was troublesome enough, he had to wonder why he was tolerating this at 11pm in this cold winter night.

“Fry, a little help here?” Newt tilted his head back at his other friend who was busy filming the whole fiasco in his phone. Gally was built like a brick wall and he was having a hard time restraining him, and he was already wrapped around Gally like a koala.

“Sorry, Newt,” Siggy chuckled as he went around to capture them better. “Winston told me to cover the whole thing.”

Before Newt could utter a reply, Gally had broken free of his hold.

“Come on, Thomas,” he slurred, cheeks red either from the alcohol or the screaming, Newt just didn’t care anymore because his ass was screaming pain from falling on the pavement. “Why won’t you answer me? Is it my eyebrows? They too ‘loud’ or somethin’?”

“It’s definitely the eyebrows man,” Frypan laughed. Newt knew he zoomed in on the overly defined strips of facial hair.

“Shuck,” Gally overdramatically muttered under his breath. “And I spend so much time doin’ them myself in the mornings.”

“Bloody hell, don’t you go cryin’ on me mate,” Newt backed away when Gally made to cradle his head on Newt’s shoulder. Gally succeeded for about two seconds.

“If you don’t want them,” he slurred, “I’m shaving them off.”

“This is gonna be so good!” Frypan danced on his toes.

“Okay, let’s get you back home so you could shave them properly,” Newt made to direct Gally away from the house with his shoulders. Once they were back in the car, he would drive so this big lug could sleep and will hopefully not rememer about this evening’s episode and about his plan to go eyebrow-less.

Except that wasn’t Gally’s plan. He took something shiny out of his pocket and held it like a fork over his forehead.

“Whoa there,” Newt grabbed the thing from his squirming friend. “Did you seriously plan to 'shave’ your eyebrows with this fun-sized nailcutter? For real?”

“It’s the only way,” Gally was breathing heavily; apparently the alcohol was really making him more theatrical. He turned back to the house. “Thomas! Witness me!”

“What the bloody–” but before Newt could finish, Gally had taken the nailcutter from his hands.

“Hold it!” someone called out, and they all turned to the direction of this voice. There was a new guy, Asian with strong arms, dressed up in a police officer costume, complete with a cap, white socks and leather shoes. Newt decided it was indeed just a costume because even officers would not wear above-the-knee shorts in this cold winter night, despite how damn good those legs look.

“Sir, step away from the house,” said the man, his voice surprisingly stable and without chattering from the cold. “The locals have filed a complaint about a drunk man making a ruckus, and I will not be lenient in carrying out the duties expected of a legit officer such as I.”

 _Poor guy, did he have to memorize that line?_ Newt thought as he stared at him. _Must’ve drawn the short straw at a punishment game._

Somehow his gaze caught the guy’s attention and their eyes locked for a moment. _Okay, he caught me staring. Wow, this is awkward. Do I sustain eye contact or pretend to look at the trees? But wait, if I suddenly look the other way wouldn’t it seem like I’m guilty of actually staring at him? But if he’s also staring at me, and I’m staring at him, and Winston’s filming, then who put him in those shorts–_

“This act of love is equal to a crime?” Gally’s screaming broke Newt’s train of thought and his stare flare with the new guy. Apparently Gally didn’t process that this officer was a fraud. “The only crime here are my eyebrows, and I am on my way to fix them!”

“I would advise you to keep it low—”

“I knew it! The arch of these eyebrows are just too high–”

“Sir, if you could please put the nailcutter down –”

“You are obstructing justice if you stop me—!”

Without preamble, Fake Officer punched the taller Gally square in the face. Gally fell to the ground, his eyes turning to big X’s.

“Now you sound better when you’re not interrupting me,” he muttered. “And after all the trouble of memorizing those shuck lines, too.” Then he turned to Newt. “You, blondie with the cute eyes. Help me pick him up.”

Without commenting on the flirtatious compliment thrown at him, Newt went over and bent down to pick his friend up by the shoulder.

“Wait!” Siggy said before both of them could get the big lug off the pavement. “Let me take selfies of _Rekt Gally_ first.”

Left standing in a corner with the new guy, Newt decided to socialize.

“So, uhh, you on a dare or something?” he said, eyeing the costume from top to bottom, his eyes resting particularly on the firm, taut muscles of the legs.

“Yeah, all thanks to _his_ boyfriend.” He gestured at Gally who had begun drooling onto the asphalt. Siggy seemed even more enthusiastic taking the pictures now.

“You don’t seem very cold, given the lack of cloth,” Newt said, eyes still fixed on those calves.

“I kinda jogged from Thomas’ house on my way here,” the guy replied. Newt arched his eyebrow in confusion, wasn’t this house the one Gally said Thomas was in…?

“Oh yeah, Thomas lives a couple of blocks from here,” the guy explained. “Our friend Ben, who lives in this area, called us about someone screaming for Thomas, and that’s how I got the dare.”

“… So Gally’s been screaming at the wrong house for over half an hour now?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why hasn’t anyone from inside called us out yet?”

“That’s because they’re an old couple who have hearing problems.”

“Oh,” Newt’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lucky us, then.”

“… Lucky me _I_ got sent here.”

Newt could sense another cheesy pick-up line coming. He decided he probably doesn’t mind. “Oh yeah? What’s your luck brought you?”

“Pretty eyes and a sexy accent,” he smirked, and took one small step closer, still respecting the ample distance between them. And then, with the slightest hint of vulnerability, he asked, “You dating anyone right now?”

“What makes you think this package of 'pretty eyes and a sexy accent’ is still single?” Newt challenged playfully, also taking one small step closer.

“My absence from your life until five minutes ago,” he smirked, which striked Newt as not overly confident, but surprisingly charming. They stared at each other for a good four seconds before either spoke.

“I’m Newt,” he said, holding out a hand. A friendly gesture that meant he was interested in getting to know more about the other party and take it slowly from there.

“Minho,” he took the hand and shook it, held on for longer than he should. “My hands do feel colder. Can I borrow yours for a while?”

Newt rolled his eyes at how predictable and cheesy it sounded, but more for himself at how charmed he is by a line so sappy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
